The Chronicles of Closet Twihards: Episode III
by imperial violets
Summary: The Chronicles of Closet Twihards: Episode III: Searching For Bobby Dupea. A chance encounter with Rob Pattinson as Bobby Dupea. Episodes I: Masturbating Popsicles and Episdoe II: Been Caught Reading can be found through my profile. Episode IV is now up.


A/N:

Constantia and I are a little disappointed with the little hits we'd received from Episode II: Been Caught Reading. We know that our wonderful and beloved Patty Cakes does not make an appearance, but it does not mean it should be ignored. So please, please, with all do respect give the story a chance by reading and reviewing it. You can find Episode I: Masturbating With Popsicles and Episode II in my stories.

Now, on to Episode III.

Back in September, Constantia and I met a traveler visiting our area and she told us of her story. Not only did we not have the heart to tell her the truth, we also didn't have the courage to come out of the closet and reveal ourselves for the Twihards we are by explaining that RPattz and Bobby Dupea are the same person.

Unlike us, she has not been caught up in the Twilight pandemonium so it would have been difficult to explain her predicament. Instead, we decided to help her case by posting her story and letting you know what happened between RPatts and her.

At the end of the story she left us an email so she may be contacted about any sightings of Bobby Dupea. Please do not burst her bubble, as she is in love with Bobby and not Rob, and the last thing she needs is a broken heart when she realizes that Rob has already moved on.

If she at any point in time does find Bobby again, there is a possibility that whatever they shared may be rekindled again, but it could only be done through the help of all closet Twihards out there.

So without further ado, we would like to present you with:

SEARCHING FOR BOBBY DUPEA

This past summer I decided to backpack through Europe. For six weeks my travels took me through France, Switzerland, Austria, Czech Republic, Germany and Denmark. I decided that the remainder of my two weeks in Europe would be best spent in London.

It was the best decision I had ever made, because there I met the man of my dreams, a handsome bronzed hair musician by the name of Bobby Dupea.

This is my story:

It was a dark and stormy night as I rushed madly through the backstreets of London, uselessly clutching a newspaper over my head in an attempt to shield myself from the pouring rain. I ran not knowing which was the way back to the inn when I spotted a small pub on the corner; its windows filled with a warm light. Feeling more and more like Janet heading towards Dr. Frank-N-Furter's mansion, I made my way up to the door of the pub.

The warmth of the small room slowly made its way through my body as I pulled the door open. I didn't realize how cold I had actually become in the midst of my panic. I decided that as long as it was raining, and as long as I was lost, it wouldn't do me any harm to stay a while and have a drink.

What kind of backpacking trip would this be if I didn't stop into some little British pubs and drink with large men speaking in cockney accents? My soul searching had taken me across an ocean and now it was taking me into this little pub in the backstreets of London. Who knew? Maybe this was where I would find what I was looking for?

"That won't do you much good round here, Miss," a deep, rough voice said.

I turned to see a short, round faced man with a bright red nose looking up at me. He was motioning to the newspaper I was still holding over my head.

"Oh, right. Um, I forgot I was holding onto this," I said.

"You look as though you could use a drink. We'll get you one," he said with a smile while motioning me to follow, "Please, take a seat at the bar. You look as though you could use one."

"Thank you," I said, giving him a tired smile of gratitude.

"No need for thanks," he said as he led me to the bar, "as the owner of this fine establishment I decided that any weary traveler that walks through my door deserves a drink on the house. And tonight that would you be you, Miss. I'm Henry, by the way," he said, offering me a handshake as he introduced himself and pulled out a bar stool out for me.

I had yet to look around the pub and, once I had taken my seat between Henry, and another man with large glasses, I took a moment to do so.

The pub was busier than I had expected and it had a surprising number of young people for such a mature looking pub. I considered going over and introducing myself but I found that I didn't want to leave Henry, the kind owner of the pub who had already offered and ordered me a drink.

"You're just in time for Bobby."

"What?" I asked, wondering if I should know Bobby or if this man was confusing me for someone else.

"He sings 'n plays here sometimes. You're just in time to see him."

"Oh, that's nice," I wasn't quite sure what to say to him. I didn't know what kind of music you would find in a pub such as this. "Would I have heard of him?"

"Well, you haven't heard of Bobby. But you might have heard of him."

I decided not to push the issue any further since, honestly, I wasn't really interested in whatever small time, local guy was playing tonight anyway. Instead, I thanked the bartender for the Guinness he brought over and turned around on my stool as I heard the sound of a guitar being tuned and a crowd hushing into silence.

In the back corner of the pub, there was a small stage not more than two feet of the ground. The lights were still dimmed, but I managed to make out the silhouette of a tall, slim man holding a guitar, sitting on chair set up on stage.

The silhouette adjusted the microphone, and I watched him pick up a pint glass of the floor beside him and take a sip of the brew before he gently cleared his throat.

"Good evening," he spoke into the microphone, with a tone of humbled dignity, as lights brightened on the stage taking him out of the shadows and revealing the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life.

The small crowd up front began to cheer and Henry whistled loudly, but all that noise was drowned out by the rapid, hard beat of my heart. It felt as though my heart wanted to jump out of my chest and follow him wherever he went.

"How are you doing tonight?" He continued.

His voice was smooth, gentle, and warm. It felt as though I was being cloaked with velvet. He also spoke the queens English, not the cockney that I have been accustomed to for the past several days. My reaction to hearing him speak made me wonder what would happen when he would start ton sing. I thought I would melt into a puddle and that would be the end of me.

"That young chap has a way of charming the ladies, and it looks to me that you're fair game as well," Henry said to me when he noticed my reaction and he chuckled quietly to himself

It sounded to me as though Henry was in some far off place. All I could see or hear was Bobby tuning his guitar and introducing his first song.

"This song is called, I Was Broken."

I imagined he was singing for me and the rest of the world went away.

His voice was raw and velvety as he made his way through the set of songs. I had never heard any of them before except for, I'll Be Your Lover, Too a Van Morrison cover.

His voice was like a drug. I couldn't get enough of the raw emotions coming through his songs.

About half way through the set Henry leaned in towards me.

"You know, if you'd like to meet Bobby after the show I could introduce you."

My body betrayed me as my eyes opened wide and my mouth dropped open in an obvious sign of my excitement. I will forever be thankful that Henry offered me a drink when I ran into the pub and that I didn't leave him for the younger crowd.

I made an attempt at speech as nonchalantly as I could. "Oh, well, yeah. Sure, if that's okay. I'd love to discuss his music. You know, music…"

Bobby carried on through the other half of his set as I sat there anticipating my introduction.

It was bitter sweet when his set was over. I could have sat there and listened to him sing until the sun came up.

He graciously thanked his audience over their applause and left the stage to pack up.

The crowd in the pub started to thin out and I watched from the bar as he chatted to a few remaining fans. I smiled to myself, when I noticed him running his hand through his hair and smiling shyly anytime a fan complemented him.

Little by little, the remaining crowd made their way out the door or dispersed themselves in small groups around the pub to finish off their drinks.

Henry, at this point, was behind the bar entertaining me with funny stories of past patrons while filling another pint of Guinness for me.

"Make that two, please."

It was Bobby. I felt a blush sweep over me. I was so engrossed in Henry's stories that I didn't realize Bobby finally made his way over to the bar.

He took a seat next to me and Henry introduced us to each other. He also told Bobby an exaggerated account of my arrival, which made me blush again.

Henry set our glasses down and went over to tend to some regulars at the other side of the bar.

"He sure knows how to charm the ladies," Bobby chuckled, while watching and waiting for the foam to finish cascading through the glass.

"Hmm…He said the same about you," I said, trying to suppress a grin as a watched Bobby run a hand through his hair before picking up his ale and turning towards me.

I did the same.

"Cheers," We said in unison.

We clinked glasses and from there we fell into an easy conversation.

I don't know how long we sat there for, talking and laughing, but I knew it was time to go when Henry came to interrupt us, "Sorry kids, but I'm going to have to throw you out. Unlike you, this old man needs to get some sleep."

We both look around and noticed that we were the only ones left.

"Sorry, Henry, we didn't mean to keep you," Bobby said sheepishly.

"No worries," Henry replied.

We said our goodbyes, and I thanked him for the drinks. Before we left Henry made me promise to come back and visit next time I was in London.

I felt a little disappointed that Bobby and I would soon be parting ways and I wish I had more time with him. At least, I could now take my time finding the inn I was staying at since it stopped raining, even though I was dreading it.

"I guess it's time for me to find my way back to the inn," I said sadly, knowing it was time to go our separate ways.

"Where are you staying?" he asked.

I told him were I was staying and to my utter delight he offered to walk me back to the inn.

"I thought Henry was exaggerating when he said you got lost, you really lost your way, you're not even in the right neighbourhood," he said in a teasing manner.

"I'm fond of walking," I replied, a little embarrassed. Though, I was glad that I wandered so far away from the inn. It allowed me to steal some more time with him.

Late night in London was beautiful, especially after a rainfall. The rain left the city with a clean sheen, emphasizing the gleam of the city lights. It made the walk with Bobby back to the inn that much better.

We talked some more as he led the way and sometimes we walked in comfortable silence. But, it didn't last as long as I had thought; we were soon approaching the familiar doors of the inn.

"Well, this is you," he said sadly, as he stopped in front of the inn and turns towards me.

I just nodded glumly, not wanting to say goodbye.

"I had a great time tonight, you're really refreshing," he said.

"Same here," I said giving him a sad smile.

We both stood there, waiting for the other to leave, but neither of us made a move to go. We just didn't want to say goodbye to each other.

Suddenly, a smile crept across his face. I took the liberty of searing that crooked smile into my mind, never wanting to forget it.

"You said that you're staying in London for a few more days before you go back home?"

"Yeah," I answered a little puzzled.

"How about I give you a personal tour of my London before you leave?" he asked.

I beamed. "I would love that." I replied.

He quickly got out his iPhone to program my number, but to his dismay his phone's battery had ran out. Instead, I took out my cell, where he programmed his phone number before returning it back to me.

"Call me tomorrow," he said.

"I will."

"Promise?" he said, looking intently at me.

"I promise," I said, refusing to hide my smile.

He smiled back, "Good. I'll talk to you tomorrow then, goodnight."

Before he left, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek and whispered in my ear, "Until tomorrow." Right there and then, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I could have even sworn that he inhaled my scent, before we parted and he went on his merry way.

I stood there, dizzy from our interaction as I watched him walk away. He turned back and wave to me, before he turned the corner and disappearing into the moonlit night.

The next morning I got up and I wanted to call Bobby right away, but I was worried that I would wake him up by calling him so early. Instead, I grabbed a quick breakfast at the inn and decided to take a quick stroll and wait to call Bobby for elevenses. What can I say? I had developed an extreme affection for England.

When I got back to the inn, I knew it was time to call Bobby. I hopped up on my bed and went through my purse, but I couldn't find my cell phone. I noticed that the outside pocket of my purse, where I kept my phone was open.

I panicked and ran around my room in a frenzy, praying that I would find my phone. In a matter of minutes I had turned my room upside down looking in triplicate of all the possible places it could have disappeared to. I realized that I must have fallen out while I was out.

I cursed myself for not calling him earlier that morning, while I retraced my steps of where I took my walk. I knew it was useless my phone was gone. The only hope I had now was if someone had found it and would eventually contact my provider.

I stayed at the inn for the remaining three days waiting for either my cell phone to show up or Bobby since he knew where I was saying. But I knew that whoever had my cell probably kept it for themselves and I had a feeling that Bobby wouldn't show up, he probably thought that the reason I hadn't called was because I wasn't interested.

I left London heartbroken; I never felt anything for a man like that, and probably never will. I really miss him and I hope our paths will cross again and it won't be too late.

So that's my story.

As you may already know, I still haven't located my phone and doubt that I ever will.

I am heart broken that there may be a chance that I will never see him again and before I can accept that fate I will be going back to England soon to have one last chance to try to find him before school starts. In conjunction to this, I am sending out a plea to my fellow writers to help me look for him.

So, please help me in my quest to find Bobby. If any of you out there have any information of where I could find him, please email me at: searchingforbobbydupea(at)hotmail(dot)com. As long as I am getting emails of his possible whereabouts I swear, as god as my witness, I will never stop searching for Bobby Dupea.

A/N:

Please help our new friend find her love by leaving a review and/or replying to her email if you know of his whereabouts

Sincerely,

Constantia and imperial violets

The Chronicles of Closet Twihards will return in Episode IV: A Twilight Intervention. "This is the reason I remained in the closet."


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